


there is quiet

by cattlaydee



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Daddy Kink, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, QPQVerse, Quid Pro Quo Verse, Whump, idek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-27 10:50:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6281644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cattlaydee/pseuds/cattlaydee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex gets into an accident while riding his bike. Written for the QPQ verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Quid Pro Quo](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5880157) by [rillrill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rillrill/pseuds/rillrill). 



> i am not a doctor. I know next to nothing about doctoring, so any of the wrong stuff in here, apologies. I did what little research I could quickly. sorry for all the serious and angst.

Senator Washington is irritated.

He's been stuck in session for over 5 hours listening to the Republican's drone on about Planned Parenthood and its affront to the unborn, and he's bored and tired of their myopia when it comes to the issue. He checks his watch as they seem to wind down, the face telling him it's half past 2 pm. 

He really just wants to get back to the office and see Alex. He wants to lay down on that couch across from his desk and close his eyes with a glass of Makers in his hand as he puts on a vinyl. His phone has been ringing incessantly in his pocket, vibrating fiercely enough to curious looks from his colleagues, and he'd ended up turning it off completely. By the time a recess is called and he was able to step outside to turn it back on, he has 15 missed calls and 3 missed texts from Lafayette.

And, curiously enough, none from Alexander.

 _That's strange,_ he muses, brows knitting close together. If something was on fire, he assumes it'd be Alex contacting him. Why is Lafayette...

 _In fact,_ he realizes suddenly, _he has nothing from Alexander,_ not since right after he left the apartment this morning. His stomach goes cold, a heaviness settling in his gut and when his phone quiver's to life seconds later, he picks it up on the first ring.

"Gilbert? What is going on?"

The General never calls him by his full first name, so he can hear the younger man take a deep breath on the other end. "Sir, I wanted to talk to you before you may have heard about it elsewhere. I don't know quite if you have, but I assure you, he's going to be _fine..._ "

He turns abruptly toward one of the exits, beginning to make his way out of the Capitol, his free hand already in his pants pocket for his keys. "Tell me where, I'm on my way."

\-------

The first thing he registers is the brightness. The pure white flare of the florescent bulb above him makes him wince in his groggy state. He pushes back into the pillows, attempting to turn onto his side to shield himself from the light, but he finds his body somewhat unresponsive, dulled by sedatives and painkillers. 

Oh, but there is _some_ pain.

He groans out loud, squeezing his eyes shut. He feels like he's been hit by a Mack truck (in actuality, it was a Civic). He forces his eyes open, blinking slowly a few times before his surroundings begin to come into focus. Everything is white. There is a beeping. And the smell...

He swears aloud as everything crystallizes and he realizes where he is. He does everything he can to push past whatever is in his system as he tries to rise up and out of the bed, objecting audibly. He feels a hand on his arm, a hand on his shoulder, a hushing voice that is trying to calm him down but he's not feeling very calm because not a hospital, _never_ a hospital...

"Alex, STOP, you're gonna bust your stitches!" 

Eliza's voice stops him in mid-flail and he stills in place for a moment as he gets his bearing. Eliza. His emergency contact. Because they're dating.

Right. Because John's in New York. And _they're_ dating.

He wants it to be someone else. _He wants..._

He allows her to lower him back toward his pillow, let's her pull his blanket up over his hospital gown and she looks down at him with something like pity as she gets up and pours him a glass of water.

"What time is it?" He asks softly. "How long have I been out? What happened?"

She hushes him gently, handing him the paper cup and telling him to take it easy. He sips at it slowly and, finding himself parched, downs the rest in a gulp. When he licks his lips, the copper taste of a fresh formed scab follows and he makes a face. Eliza has the audacity to smile a little.

"They told me it looks a lot worse than it is, but don't worry, you won't scar." She nods toward his face. "It's almost 4. You've been out all morning and afternoon, but I guess the anesthesia is wearing off."

"Anesthesia?" He gapes at her and she nods in response.

"Apparently," She remarks with a pointed glare. "You were weaving in and out of traffic in a rush to get to work." She's scolding him, he realizes indignantly, and he scowls but she doesn't slow; this is not the first time she's commented on his reckless cycling. 

"Anyway, some asshole who was texting sideswiped you in their car. They weren't going very fast, thank goodness. And they didn't hit you head on, which the doctor said was good..." She trails off, looking away. "Anyway, your bike is fucked. You apparently flipped over the handlebars and got thrown a ways. Broken wrist, concussion, ruptured spleen, hence the anesthesia, 2 broken ribs and bruising everywhere. But other than that, you're fine."

"Other than _that_." He bites. He throws his head against the pillow, arching back toward the ceiling. "Fuuu _uuuuck._ "

"Yeah." She nods, sliding back into the chair beside him. "He's gonna be pissed when he sees how fucked up your face is."

He groans again, sliding his hand to grab his hair at the crown. "Thanks for that. Thanks."

Ugh. How many times had Washington lectured him on how fast and sharp he was on his bike? HOW many times did he bitch at him for not looking or signaling or any of that other, stupid bullshit? How he didn't wear a helmet ('it's fucks up my hair' 'okay, _princess_ '), how he was an adult male and he should just walk or take the city transit like everyone else?

He looks down at his body. He can feel where the gauze bandage is affixed under his gown near his ribs ( _broken,_ he notes, and attributes the dull throb to that) and he rolls his eyes, thinking of all the aftercare bullshit he's gonna have to deal with, and mostly, how up his ASS Washington is going to be, and not in the fun way.

He notes, suddenly, that his other arm is bare as well and his mouth goes dry immediately. "Eliza. Eliza! Where's my stuff? Eliza, where's my...."

"I have it, I have all your things, it's right here." She lays a hand on his arm in comfort, leaning down to the floor to pull a plastic baggy from her purse that has his work badge, wallet, keys and...ah, yes. Thank god. Thank fucking god.

She pulls the watch from the bag and slips it over his left hand, the weight returned a small consolation in his misery. He falls back against the pillow with a soft sigh as the steady pounding returns to his head, the ache of his entire body making him groan.

He hears the door to the room open and a woman walks in in scrubs with a iPad, a tired smile on her face. "Mr. Hamilton. How are we feeling? I'm Amy, I'm your nurse for this shift. The pain okay? You need the drip adjusted?"

Christ alive, he has an IV and everything. He closes his eyes with a shake of his head. He wants the needle out of his arm. This was ridiculous. They had taken him to surgery, they had patched him up. Yeah, he didn't feel _great_ , but he would rather feel not great in the comfort of his own apartment. There, he could just stay all doped up on some pain pills and he would sleep for a couple of days straight-Washington would insist on it-and he could maybe be back to work by Monday, if he were lucky. 

"Alright then. Let me check your incision real quick."

He suffers through the indignity of being manhandled by a stranger without much fuss and as she draws the gown back down, hums a noise of approval. She pokes around on the tablet a few times until she confirms his check up for the afternoon, and hugs the device close to her chest, smiling brightly in an overly cheerful way that irritates him, but he knows that's kind of her job, so he holds back. "We're good for now. I'll be back in a few hours to check the drip again and everything."

"When can I go home?"

"You're gonna need to ask the doctor that, but honestly, probably another day or so. They'll just want to make sure that's healing alright, but getting your spleen out is relatively routine and everything went just how it should. She'll want to talk with your girlfriend about what she needs to look out for, so she'll probably be in shortly to talk discuss some of that stuff." She nods to Eliza with a smile as well and turns to leave before stopping herself as she gets to the door. "Oh, I wanted to mention! Senator Washington registered as a visitor downstairs a few minutes ago, he should be on his way up soon. Just a warning about the bossman."

His heart begins to race, half of him wanting to spring out of bed and rush to meet him at the elevator, the other half of him wanting to hide. He keeps his tone even. "Ah cool. That's...nice of him." He finishes the sentence weakly, not really sure of what to say, but it seems to satisfy her enough and she shrugs. 

"It seems. The doctor will be in shortly as well to give you the run down of everything. Make sure to buzz me if you need anything, okay?"

She waits for him to nod before she leaves. He doesn't hear the door close.

A woman in a white coat walks in before he and Eliza can say anything to each other, holding what is probably the same tablet as the nurse had. She assessing the information, nodding slowly, muttering under her breath and finally looks up at him as if she's just noticed he's in the room. "Mr. Hamilton. Welcome to GBU."

"Pleasures all mine." He responds dryly, shifting in the bed so he crosses his arms. She humors him with a chuckle.

"I want to get the shop talk out of the way before I let your boss come in here, doctor patient confidentiality and whatnot. Are you alright with Ms. Schuyler hearing all this now as well?"

"She's my emergency contact, isn't she?"

"I just wanted to verify, Mr. Hamilton." She tucks a stylus in her coat pocket and begins to scroll through his chart. "Alright. We have two broken ribs, a broken wrist, contusions throughout the body, a concussion and a ruptured spleen that was removed at 1015 am this morning."

"We?" He snides. She doesn't acknowledge it.

"As long as your incision site stays clear of any signs of infection, I wager you'll be on your way home by Sunday. We'll send you with a few prescriptions and have Eliza here makes sure you don't re-injure yourself. From what I understand, you're a rather headstrong young man, so you'll have to relent and let her help you with some of your normal day to day tasks."

He's burning with embarrassment, a dirty look on his face as he looks between the two. He knows the doctor won't be able to tell, but Eliza is holding back a laugh. They're close enough now, and they've known each other long enough for her to know how much this is going to irritate him, and it seems to be giving her boundless amusement, especially since in the end, she won't be the one to deal with it. 

He looks back at the doctor, who is motioning at the doorway. He hears it open a little more, hears the swish of a curtain being pushed aside, and he hears footsteps too heavy to be the nurse who was just checking up on him. He watches as Washington slides into view, looking at the doctor, at Eliza, anywhere but at the bed where he currently lay. 

Washington looks depleted, drawn, like he's been up for 3 days straight and is barely standing from exhaustion. He keeps his eyes on the doctor, because she begins talking about work and not letting Alex push himself and that he will make a quick and full recovery if he rests like he should, so the Senator should under no circumstances let him back at the office for a few weeks. Washington is nodding with spirit, and Alex knows that regardless of what the doctor was saying, his exile from the office until he was better was a foregone conclusion.

Eliza rises from his side with a squeeze to his wrist and a sympathetic glance. "Doctor, if you would be so kind, I was going to run down to the cafeteria for some coffee. Would you join me to discuss some of what should be expected?"

"I have a few minutes before my next consult, but if we go now, we should be able to cover it." The doctor looks up at Washington, who still hasn't _looked_ at him, but doesn't seem too concerned. "Are you going to be alright with him for a few minutes?"

"I can handle Alexander." He speaks for the first time, tone placid, without any implication that something is amiss, and the Doctor nods, seemingly content with the answer. 

Eliza places a hand on his shoulder, even brushes his hair behind his ear for effect and places a kiss on his head. "I'll be back in about a half hour, hour. You good with your boss for now?"

He loves Eliza, he really does, but Jesus would they just fucking leave already. He hates the whole goddamned charade sometimes.

But the show must go on. He smiles softly and even brings his good hand up to squeeze hers. The watch glints in the light.

"I'll be fine. Thank you, hon."

The doctor hurries out, Eliza following slowly behind, and he's pretty sure he hears the distinct sound of the lock being pushed in before the door closes. Washington has moved over to the narrow window in the corner, looking out over the Potomac, his left side facing the bed in the middle of the room.

"Sir..."

Washington holds up a stiff hand, and Alex can see his Adam's apple working in his throat as he blinks against the sunlight. After a few seconds of silence, the hand curls into a tight fist that falls to his side as he turns to face him, meeting his gaze for the first time.

"Al _ex._ " 

His name is uttered in a whisper, a shuttering breath that seems like it's been held in for hours. It's made up of both fear and relief, and his expression is pained beyond anything Alex is ever okay with seeing on that face. Washington's hands are both clenched at his side, and his entire body seems coiled tight, barely restrained. 

_This is because of him._

Alexander feels something rise inside of him, a pressure that builds and builds in his chest, and he recognizes it as a sort of shame. He feels his face burn as he can't stop it from crumbling, covering it with his hands. He doesn't cry, but he can't look up, can't see the disappointment or anger that Washington must feel for him...

"I'm _sorry_ , sir..." 

"Alexander, _no_." Alex hears him walk toward the bed and he feels the shift in weight towards his left side as Washington rests against it. "Baby, it's alright, I'm here." He feels a heavy hand wrap around his uninjured left wrist, right above the watch and he chokes back a sob.

"I'm sorry I didn't listen to you. I'm sorry I was stupid and reckless. You don't have to be here, today's session can't have adjourned yet..."

"Alexander, I don't care about work." Washington responds sharply, dropping into the free seat where Eliza has been posted all afternoon. He pulls himself close to Alex's side, pulling the younger man's good hand from his face and threading his fingers through it. His free hand ghosts up along the bruises and scrapes all up his jawline, barely caressing them with a hiss. "Oh baby, your face..."

"I know, I'm sorry, I fucked up..."

"Alex, I'm not angry. And this isn't your fault." He reassures with a gentle hush. "That young man was texting while he was driving."

"I was definitely all in traffic though."

"Be that as it may..." He trails off, not taking his eyes off of him. Alex finally allows himself to meet his gaze fully, and his stomach flips like he's on a roller coaster to see his lover's eyes shining. 

"George, I'm okay."

Washington doesn't respond, doesn't seem to be able to. He just closes his eyes, swallowing a few times intermittently, deep, shuttering breaths before he brings Alexander's hand to his mouth. He presses a kiss to the knuckle of his thumb, working his way up to the knuckles of his fingers, just holding his hand there against his lips. When he speaks again, rubbing his thumb now along the trail of kisses, he doesn't look up at Alex. 

"Lafayette called me so many times and I didn't pick up until the recess. And when he spoke, even though he told me you'd be fine, I just..." He shook his head. "You scared me, Alexander."

Bruising be damned. He lifts Washington's hand, strong and stable and safe, to his face and presses it against his cheek, turning to kiss it's heel before letting it rest. Washington curls his fingers in the strands of hair there and Alex lets himself relax for the first time since he woke up. 

"Will you lay with me?"

His voice is so small, he would usually be embarrassed, but this reaction has kind of made this whole thing a reality. He got hit by a fucking car. He could have fucking _died._ He's always been so reckless, ever since his mother died, living like it was all on borrowed time, through foster care and Afghanistan, NYC and DC, all of it, because it just didn't matter.

He scoots to the far side of the bed as Washington stands and slides in to join him, molding his body to Alex's, arching his arm around his side. "Am I hurting you?"

"I don't care."

"Alex, your stitches..."

"I'll tell you if you get too close." He promises, and he would be embarrassed at how he sounded if not for the day he'd had. He may have been flippant and fiery 10 minutes ago, but the weight of the day's events reflected through George had changed that. 

He was scared too, he realizes somewhat in surprise. He had never allowed himself to be this close to someone, to need someone the way he knew he needed George, had never allowed himself to be the one who was needed. Usually by this point, he'd have done something abhorrent enough to drive them away. But this was different than then. Different than Afghanistan. He feels Washington's arm tighten snugly around his midsection, and bring his left arm down intermingle with it, grasping his hand once more. 

It mattered now.

"I'm sorry I scared you." His voice is small. Washington nuzzles into the crook of his neck in response, kissing it softly. He can smell the man on him now, spicy, soapy, a hint of sweat and whatever warm smells like (cause he swears it has a smell, it _does_ ). "I promise, I'll be more careful from now on." He snuggles into the pillow. "Only the bike lane, far away from the cars."

Washington chuckles, his fingers intermingling with loose curls as he rubs his boy's scalp gently, drawing a comfortable mew from Alex's lips. He places a kiss to his temple and Alex leans into it. 

"It's adorable," Washington whispers into his hair. "how you think I'm ever letting you ride a bicycle through the streets of DC again."

He frowns, spooning closer to Washington's front, letting his fingers trail up and down his arm. "You aren't the boss of me."

This earns him a dry chuckle, a heavy hand sliding to his waist. "Aren't I?"

Washington presses another kiss to his temple, and Alex melts more into him, closing his eyes. "We'll talk about it later."

He feels Washington laugh again softly as he drifts off to sleep, warm, and safe, and well loved. He barely hears the response. 

"I'm sure we will."

\-----


	2. an extension of blessings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex comes home after his bike accident and George takes care of him. It goes...better than he expected it would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a few people asked for this, and it finally crystallized so hopefully you enjoy. 
> 
> i'm going to warn you all that my first attempt at writing smut is in this, so please, if that's not something you want in one of these fics, be forewarned. even if it is, please be gentle lol cause i'm not sure how well it's written but it just...happened so. you've been forewarned.
> 
> the title of the chapter is from daveed's interlude in "good for you"

The weekend does not come fast enough for Alex. Eliza had brought him a bag of things-clothes, books, electronic anything to keep him busy. The evidence is there to indicate that it was put together by Washington with the presence of a few new books included that he's been eyeing as of late; the knowledge that he took them into consideration warms Alex's heart. By the time he's being discharged, he has sped through most of them and begun to annoy the nurses enough with his color commentary of bad daytime television.  
  
They bring a wheelchair for him as he's leaving, which he glares at in disdain, making a comment about how his legs are working fine. Eliza ushers him from the hospital, apologies thrown from behind him, thanking the hospital staff as they leave. When they got in her car, he receives daggers.  
  
"Are you always like this?" She hisses, shifting the car into drive. "They were just doing their job!"  
  
"I didn't need to be there anymore. I hate hospitals." He sighs, crossing his arms, one still clad up to his elbow in a cast. "I'm sorry, I just want to be home."  
  
She curses under her breath, mutter's something about how she doesn't understand how Washington deals with it, and they ride in relative quiet until they get to his apartment. She grabs his bag, insisting that he not carry anything because of his sutures, and they climb up to his floor and she puts the bag on the ground next to him. The door is cracked.  
  
"This is where I leave you." She smiles tightly, then pulls him in for a gentle hug. "For what it's worth, I'm really happy you're okay. Please be careful and heal up, okay? Don't push yourself."  
  
"I will take it under advisement." He winks at her, grins a little bit, and accepts the kiss she plants on his cheek. As she walks away, a part of him wants to ask about the bag she had so adamantly been against him carrying, when the door opens from the inside.  
  
George is standing there in front of him, a white dress shirt stretched over his broad chest and Alex wants to melt into the floor. He hasn't seen him in a few days, they wanted to make sure to be inconspicuous so he only visited a couple of times that week, and it takes everything in him not to throw his arms around his neck and climb him like a tree.  
  
Washington scoops up his bag, dragging it inside before Alex follows and closes the door and gently pulls him in for a kiss, running his hands through Alex's hair, thumbs at either side of his face, holding it gently. "Welcome home, princess."  
  
Alex feels like he may swoon, suddenly dizzy from just how glad he is to be in his presence. He doesn't move away right away, even leans into his chest and lets George run his hand over his hair, breathing the scent of him. He feels ridiculous, but seeing him for only a few hours over the past 6 days is really too long.  
  
"Missed you." He mutters softly, and he feels Washington's arms tighten around him, hands knotting together at the small of his back before he plants another kiss to the top of his head and rests his mouth there for a few moments before pulling back. He smiles softly at Alex and begins to walk around the apartment.  
  
"I have confiscated most of any kind of _approved_ electronic device that you could do work on. I've left you your personal laptop and iPad and you know office policy on doing any kind of work from that." He begins, raising his brows, and some of the incandescent joy Alex was feeling begins to wane. "I procured some other new titles from your Amazon Wishlist that you haven't got around to yet, so those are on your nightstand, but anything resembling work-like that tax credit legislation that will be getting voted on soon?-that's all gone and inaccessible. All you will be doing for the next month, until your incision site is cleared, is relaxing."  
  
At this, Alexander audibly groans, because relaxing stresses him out. He needs to be DOING something at all times, isn't really good at taking it easy, but George does not appear to be prepared to acquiesce this point at any moment in the future.  
  
"I've paid for four weeks worth of food service for your meals. I'll still be over as much as I can, but we both know my cooking is not exactly ideal---"  
  
Alex snorts.  
  
"...and I'll bring stuff home sometimes, but I don't want you to be without." He finishes. "You will lay on that couch and you will relax. You will not stress your ribs, nor the stitches. I even picked up something for you to occupy your time that I thought you may like. It will also allow you to access Netflix and those types of things on your television."  
  
Alex is not super excited. He's not a huge TV guy, so his sits largely unused outside of lazy nights they have together on the couch, but he looks over and see what George has gifted him and he perks up.  
  
"You bought me a new PlayStation?" He gapes at his TV stand, then swings back to look at Washington. "Best daddy _ever_."  
  
That earns him an eye-roll and a good natured chuckle. A strong hand finds it's way to his lower back and a kiss is placed at his temple. Alex turns to face him again, straight on, and his hand floats to just above Washington's hips where his muscles make a "v", just above his belt, but he is swatted away.  
  
" _Rest._ " George hisses as him, kissing him full on the mouth before pushing him away. "As much as it pains me to say, you need to be better before you indulge in any...extracurricular activities."  
  
"I feel fine." He shoots back. Arching an eyebrow, Washington raises a hand and very gently pats Alexander's side where his ribs had been injured, drawing a wince from the younger man indicating, he in fact, was not fine.  
  
"You will find your VPN access had been revoked, as has your OWA access. Security has been informed that if they see you on the premises, they are to contact myself directly and detain you until I come to release you..."  
  
"And if I do?" He looks at the older man slyly. "Am I gonna get a spanking?"  
  
Washington ignores him, tries to completely not see the one raised eyebrow and the sharp smirk as Alex leers at him. He is trying to appear stern, but Alex sees the corner of his mouth twitch just a little. "...Alexander."  
  
"Fine." He bites off with a petulant huff. "I'll be right back, I need to take a leak and do something with this," He gestures at his hair. "Then we can watch some TV? Maybe test out that PS4?"  
  
"Whatever you want, babe. I'll be waiting."  
  
Alex smiles, arches up on his feet and plants a kiss on his lips to show he's really not mad.  
  
Washington sighs as he turns and makes his way into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He reaches down and adjusts, closing his eyes softly. It was going to be a long couple of weeks.  
  


* * *

  
_**Alex** : What about this? *A photo of a road bike flashes into the stream, followed by a helmet.*_  
  
_**Sir** : No bikes._  
  
_**Alex** : What about this? *A photo of a moped, also with a helmet*_  
  
_**Sir** : That is a motorized scooter. A glorified, faster bike. No._  
  
_**Alex** : You don't let me do anything._  
  


* * *

  
It's a few days of baby wipe baths before he decides he has to actually bathe, with soap and water, and to wash his hair with something other than dry shampoo.  
  
The first time he bathes is a spectacle unto itself.  
  
Washington insists on helping him, which pisses him off to no end. He is a grown man, and yeah, other times it's fun because other stuff is usually accompanying it but right now he is being manhandled like a child with no promise of reward anytime soon.  
  
"The doctor said your incision site cannot get wet, Alexander." His tone brooks no room for argument. "And you have a cast on one arm, which _also_ can't get wet."  
  
"It'll be FINE!" He shakes his head, scowling deeply. "I hate that thing too, you wouldn't BELIEVE how much it itches..."  
  
Washington seethes through his teeth. "Alexander. Let me help you."  
  
It's not said in anger, but Alex recognizes a command when one is given and he slumps back in the few inches of water, careful of where the wound is healing. Washington has so delicately reminded him that potential infection would mean a definite, and probably _much longer_ , hospital stay and he knows that will most definitely happen with Washington at the helm, so he relents.  
  
He's not patronizing about it, which is nice. He lets Alex take care of what he can, keeping him company and shielding his torso when it's needed. When the bath is done, he fills up the wide sink over on the vanity and pulls up the padded desk chair so he can wash Alex's hair. _This_ , Alex thinks, he's _perfectly fine with_.  
  
He watches as Washington rolls up his sleeves as he runs the water to make sure it's not too hot or cold and Alex eyes his solid forearms, a warm feeling stirring in his gut. It's been a long couple of weeks, and he still has more to go, until the stitches have dissolved and he gets the okay from his doctor, but he feels fine and he wonders if...  
  
"Alex?" Washington is watching him with a slightly bemused look, as if he is trying to figure out what is going on in his boyfriends mind, even though no one can ever truly know that. He tugs playfully on the ends of Alex's hair, which does NOT help that feeling in the pit of his stomach and Alex whines a bit.  
  
"Tease."  
  
Washington chuckles, deep in his throat in the way that he _knows_ Alex finds really kind of hot. "You love it."  
  
Washington dips a plastic cup under the stream coming from the faucet and gently guides Alex's head back so that his hair is resting in the sink. He pours a few glasses over the hair, making sure it's wet enough before he squeezes the shampoo into his hand and begins to massage his scalp. Alex moans softly.  
  
"Now who's the tease?" George asks softly, but there's a soft smile on his lips as he lowers his face and softly kisses Alexander, who sighs, rolling his eyes.  
  
"I'm sorry, I can't help it." Alex insists, staring back up at him innocently. "It just feels so fucking good..."  
  
He changes the subject, trying to take his mind of the way George's fingers feel as they knead at his scalp. He asks about work, and doesn't get much there, so he asks about _people_ at work, and that works a little better.  
  
George finishes and rubs a towel over Alex's hair, enough that his hair is just damp and it's not dripping. He runs his hand through, piecing it out to make sure it doesn't tangle, then helps him into a pair of sweatpants and they lay down in bed. They read for a bit, before Alex curls up first. The one thing he will admit to, at least to himself and no one else, is he has been more tired than usual, his body doing what it has to to heal. He feels Washington lay flush up behind him, spooning him cautiously, an arm crossing over his torso. He sighs, content.  
  
"Tell me if I hurt you."  
  
"I will."  
  
He won't, but he doesn't have to worry about it because George handles him gently. They fall asleep, George's head buried behind his in a pillow, and he can feel the warm breath on his neck, can feel as George presses his lips at the base of his neck.  
  
Alex supposes, for the first time, that maybe this arrangement isn't all _that bad_ , after all.

* * *

  
_**Alex** : Are you coming to see me tonight?_  
  
_**Sir** : I was planning on it._  
  
_**Alex** : Awesome. ;)_  
  
_**Alex** : Can you bring me plastic dinnerware?_  
  
_**Sir** : What??_  
  
_**Alex** : Yeah. _  
  
_**Alex** : Like you use for picnics and stuff. _  
  
_**Sir** : No, I understand, I just...why?_  
  
_**Alex** : I lost 3 pencils and an old pair of chopstix today._  
  
_**Sir** : ah_  
  


* * *

  
He can't cut his own meat. It's just another demoralizing discovery he makes, one of many he wouldn't have expected during this whole debacle. He's about halfway through this embarrassing endeavor, and he's finally submitted completely to being helped in the bath. Now, feeding himself has even been taken from him, his dominant hand completely useless with the cast limiting the movement and grip of his fingers.  
  
"You know, I just can't really hold the knife, but I CAN lift the fork."  
  
"Just let me help you." George chides, lifting the fork full of beef to his boyfriends mouth. Alex accepts it with a scowl, and it's hard to maintain, because wherever George is getting the food from, it's fucking delicious.  
  
George also has to help him change his bandage where his stitches are, making sure it stays dry and isn't looking unnaturally red or inflamed. He spends his days on the couch or in bed, and to say he's been bored is an understatement of the highest order. He's so out of his mind crazy with cabin fever, and so he decides he's going to thwart it.  
  
He orders something from Amazon and when it arrives, it's officially been 3 weeks since the morning of his accident, so it's officially been 3 weeks, 1 hour and 28 minutes since he's been fucked appropriately. He's been doing some WebMDing too, and the four week recommendation before resuming regular activities was just that-a _recommendation_. His ribs are better-as long as he doesn't lay ON them-and the stitches have pretty much disappeared, leaving a fresh pink raised scar that he has an appointment in a week to get the okay on.  
  
This has to work. Because if it doesn't, he may just mutiny.  
  
\----  
  
"Alex?" George is carrying a bag of groceries, things he won't have to cook like fruit, vegetables, any sort of snacks and he leaves it on the counter. The TV is off,  a book left open on the couch and an almost empty glass of water that will most probably leave a ring if it's not picked up soon, which makes George frown a bit.  
  
"In here." Alex's voice is muffled coming from the room, and George heads that way after picking up the glass. He finds the younger man wrapped up in a blanket, halfway curled up, his hair in a messy bun on his head as he stares at the laptop, the obvious sounds of some Sorkin drama emanating from it's speakers. Washington leans against the door frame and just stares at him, a small grin on his face. Alex doesn't look up at him right away, but he kind of likes that, likes getting to watch Alex just _be_ Alex. But when he does look, his face lights up with a sleepy smile.  
  
"Come lay with me."  
  
He's hard pressed to deny his boy anything during his recuperation. He slides off his shoes, untucking his shirt as he crosses the room and slides into the large bed, Alex shimmying over to make more room. He turns over to face George, pushing the laptop away, and just as Washington relaxes next to him, bending his arm to prop his head up with his hand, Alex pushes the blanket away.  
  
He's wearing nothing but red lace panties. Even the bandage is gone, something Alex can see he's about to comment on and he presses his finger against his lips to silence him.  
  
"George, I'm fine. Please." He lowers his hand from George's mouth, starts to play with the top button of his shirt. "We'll be careful, nothing rough or anything. You know you want to, it's been too long. And I bought these just for you."  
  
"Definitely a tease."  
  
Washington's voice has dropped a few octaves, has some kind of gravelly tone to it and his expression becomes a familiar one Alex hasn't seen in sometime. He stretches a little, the panties pulling down just a bit before he lays onto his back, throwing his arm behind his head as he looks up where Washington has his head propped up. He pulls his hair from it's elastic.  
  
"Look. My side doesn't even hurt anymore. And the thing is completely closed up. And we'll be careful. The whole four weeks wasn't like, a _hard_ four weeks, and the appointment is for me to go back to work..."  
  
He doesn't have to finish his argument. George hushes him with a kiss, and when he pulls back, his hands are already fiddling with his shirt.  
  
"We do it my way. And if I hurt you at all, you have to tell me, understand? I will take you to the hospital myself, otherwise." He removes his shirt and undershirt, his arousal evident against his pants. "You stay right there. I'm taking care of everything."  
  
"Yes, daddy." He wiggles in anticipation, pulling himself up a little higher in the bed. George has left the bed for a moment, pulling off his trousers and letting them pool at his feet. Alex is doing as he is told, even if it is difficult for him. He wants to crawl across the bed to him, he wants to take hold of George's hips and taste him, because it's been three fucking weeks, but he does what he's told. His dick is straining against the lace.  
  
George starts at the Alex's feet, breathing on the arches of his foot, letting his lips ghost over them lightly. He nips at his ankles, kissing up his calves. Where Alex has a bit of a paunch to his stomach, youth and his _now retired_ biking habit has allowed his legs to be strong, and George trails up to his knee, placing soft kisses along the sinewy definition that is there. Alex exhales, a shuttering sigh as he extends his feet, stretching out.  
  
" _George..._ "  
  
He moves slowly up past his knees, trailing nibbles up the inside of his thighs, eliciting small moans from his lover's mouth. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of the panties, pulls them down slowly, just enough to free Alex's cock from where it's trapped, and kisses along the length of it before gently taking him fully in his mouth, allowing his tongue to swirl around the tip of it, massaging the sensitive spot right under the head.  
  
Alex's hands are gripping the sheets, pulling at them as he moans over and over again, whining and gasping for breath as he calls him daddy over and over in cadence with the strokes of his tongue. George's hands grip at his hips as he works up and down, stilling his pelvis as Alexander struggles to buck with his rhythm.  
  
"Gentle, my boy. Be still."  
  
"You're making that pretty fucking hard to do."  
  
George sits back, not wanting to spend him just yet and he crawls so that he's positioned over Alex on all fours, his boxer briefs tented as he leans down and kisses him. He reaches into the drawer of the nightstand, pulling out a bottle of lube as he stands up off the bed, dropping his briefs so that he's fully bared in front of Alex, who emits a noise from the base of his throat. George takes himself in hand, massaging as he coats his dick with the lube, licking his lips as he never takes his eyes from Alex, who shakes at the sight.  
  
He positions himself yet again at Alex's feet and pulls the panties completely from where he rested them at his knees and carefully, with all the tenderness he's ever exhibited, rests his right leg up on his shoulder. He lowers himself down, trailing a finger over Alex's entrance, the presses a lube coated finger in, curling it with a come hither motion. The younger man writhes under the contact.  
  
"Jesus Christ, just _please_...."  
  
"My pace, Alexander." He warns, slipping in a second finger, working him open until he feels ready and then smoothly eases himself in, slowly, gently. Alex is making little noises of bliss and he stills within him for a moment, just to enjoy the look of utter contentment on his boy's face.  
  
"You're so beautiful, my Alexander." He whispers, carefully resting on his elbows on either side of Alex's head, caressing both sides of his face. He kisses him gently, beginning to roll his hips, slowly but to a rhythm. Alex's good hand is in between them, a feather light touch to himself that he alternates a little firmer as he needs, and he chants George's name in a whisper, eyes half lidded and rolled back in his head, his neck arching back, conscious that he needs to not hurt himself because he knows that George will _never_ let this happen again if he re-injures himself, knows that he will have to be beyond 100% before he gets laid again.  
  
"Don't, love..." George rasps, kissing him softly as he begins to quicken his pace, batting Alex's hand away. "We don't want to make too much of a mess."  
  
Alex whines, but relents; after all, he's agreed to do whatever George asks, but seriously, fuck his injuries at this point. He grasps at the sheets and forces his eyes to open, forces himself to settle his gaze on George's face, rolling with him as much as he can as he's pinned gently underneath, short gasps in time with the rhythm.  
  
"Come for me, daddy," Alex purrs, his good hand now snaking in between the two of them with a stretch, tickling at Washington's sack, cupping it gently. "Come for me..."  
  
" ** _Alex_**."  
  
A tremor overcomes his body, and he squeezes his eyes shut as he spends himself within the man beneath him, swallowing hard as he continues to thrust through it gently before coming to a stop, the two of them breathing heavily. He lets his head drop, their foreheads meeting as eye contact never breaks, taking a few deep breaths in between spatters of kisses to his face. He relaxes against him for a moment, keeping his full weight from his torso so as not to hurt him.  
  
Once he feels like he can move once more, he wastes little time as he slips backward, out of Alex, and trails kisses down the middle of his abdomen to take him in his mouth once more.  
  
_**Oh.** So this is what he meant_ , Alex has the presence of mind to think for just a second before George swallows him whole. He pressing into him as well with his free fingers, surely mixing with whatever he's just left behind, curling up and around, hitting a spot that makes him jump and twitch in place and it doesn't take much, not much at all with how he just fucked him and-----  
  
"George....i'm _gonna_...."  
  
He feels it as his boyfriend takes him deeper, swallowing immediately, drawing it out of him and he shivers, twitches, just lays there for a moment as George sits back on his haunches with a tired soft smile, as if to admire his handiwork.  
  
"Are you alright?"  
  
Alex's mouth hangs slightly open, the half lidded stare he receives in return is his only confirmation. 

* * *

Once he's able, he's made his way to the bathroom, cleaning up really quickly so he's not absolutely filthy and slides back into bed next Washington, careful of his own fresh scar, careful of his ribs, burrowing up close to his man. George is half asleep already, so he places a gentle peck to his nose and curls up close facing him, his own fists tucked up under his chin so he rests close to his chest.  
  
"Thank you." Alex whispers against him, his face dug into the collarbone. George smells like salt, like sweat, and like _George_. He feels his hand tangle his hair at the base, feels his lips on his forehead and he nuzzles his neck.  
  
"Thank _you_. I was hesitant, to be sure, but I agree, that was much needed after this little break."  
  
He feels Alex shake his head against him, pulling back just enough to look up at him, and he's struck by a rare vulnerability Alex hardly ever lets him see. "No, I meant for everything these past few weeks. I know I can be a whiny pain in the ass, but you've really been here and dealt with me. I'm not used to it, so I can be difficult but..."  
  
"You haven't been." George pulls his hand from his hair, cups his face in his hand, rubbing his thumb over his cheekbone. "And you're welcome, although there's absolutely no need to thank me. I love being here with you Alex, you must know that. I hated not being able to be in the hospital with you."  
  
"Me too." He returns his head to the pillow, sliding as close as he can to Washington. "I love you."  
  
"I love you too. Now, sleep." He kisses him, then pulls back a little, if not for anything except for the overwhelming heat their bodies generate from being so close together. Alex doesn't get upset, he understands, but it doesn't stop him from looping his fingers with George's hands, intertwining them in the space between them.

He watches as Alex fights sleep as his lids droop close and his breathing evens out. He watches him for a few quiet moments, how his mouth droops open just a little, how his lashes flutter against the pillow as he begins to dream, how he appears just so at peace, before he, too, begins to drift off to sleep. 

Not that bad, at all.

\-----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm over at [tumblr](http://cattlaydee.tumblr.com)
> 
> also, this is just me still shamelessly leeching off of [rillrill's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/rillrill/pseuds/rillrill) [Quid Pro Quo](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5880157), which is glorious and will probably need to be read for context. so.

**Author's Note:**

> i have a [tumblr](http://cattlaydee.tumblr.com/), so come visit me.
> 
> this exists because of [rillrill](http://archiveofourown.org/users/rillrill/pseuds/rillrill) and her glorious [QPQ verse](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5880157/chapters/13551823), so I hope I did it in the vicinity of justice :)


End file.
